Learning How to Love
by LindsayBobV
Summary: *Chapter 2 up!* "Sometimes strangers make the best listeners." Michael Vaughn and a stranger learn from each other about life, love, and the things that are most important. Please read and review!
1. Prologue: I'd Never Amount to Anything

Learning How to Love  
  
By: Lindsay  
  
Rating: PG13 for swearing  
  
Spoilers: The Telling  
  
Disclaimer: Alias, Michael Vaughn, and their plot lines do not belong to me. But, Alene Hardwick is completely mine!  
  
A/N: Please review!!!! Please, please, please! This story is placed after the Season 2 Finale, but seen from an original character's eyes. I'm extremely S/V centered, so don't freak out.just read.  
  
Prologue: I'd Never Amount to Anything  
  
When I was seven years old my stepmother told me I'd never amount to anything. What kind of person says that to a kid anyways? I had kind of a Cinderella childhood, growing up with the bitchiest stepmother around and two equally bitchy stepchildren, all the while trying to deal with the death of both of my parents. No, she didn't make me her slave, but she attempted to squish every ounce of self-esteem out of me by the time I willingly moved out on my 18th birthday.  
  
I guess I can thank her for this life I've led then.  
  
I am a spy.  
  
No, not an ordinary CIA agent who goes and looks for America's Most Wanted in foreign countries. I'm not even one of those double agents who pretend their working for the bad guys, but are really working for the good guys to infiltrate information.  
  
No, none of that.  
  
I'm a triple agent.  
  
My parents had both been spies. A year after my father had remarried, he was killed in an.accident (if you could even call it that). They had to identify him by his dental records. Some woman by the name of Irina Derevko was involved with this.accident. And that's all they really told me.  
  
I guess after college, I thought following in my father's footsteps sounded like an ingenious idea. I'd not only prove my stepmother wrong, but I could avenge my father's death (despite his horrible taste in women after my mother, I still loved him).  
  
To make a really long story somewhat short, a rogue agency called the ICG recruited me before the CIA could. They pulled me in easily. Their main mission: track down Irina Derevko and kill her. It was simple enough. And appealed to me. And I was young and stupid. So I took the job, was stationed in Washington, DC, and given a false job cover as a computer programmer.  
  
Eventually, the CIA came to me and attempted to recruit me. They took me into their custody and I learned the agency's real motive: using the agents who believed they were fighting against Irina Derevko, to work for her.  
  
But the ICG found out about my meeting with the CIA, so I told them they had recruited me.  
  
Now I work for the CIA, spying on the ICG, while the ICG believes that I am spying on the CIA. Confused? I don't think I'll ever get over the confusion.  
  
I have no friends. I don't want to lie to them. Besides, my job's too confusing to explain to them even if I had any.  
  
I live alone in a one-bedroom apartment, which is hardly ever used thanks to my frequent flyer miles.  
  
I have never been in love or been loved. I don't believe in it. If there was such a thing called love, why did my father let my mother die that day in the hospital after I had been born? Why did my father marry the spawn of satan? Why did Irina Derevko destroy so many lives when she killed all of those officers? Why did my father have to be one of them? Why was I left with a family of strangers? Why do I live the life that I live? It was a cold, cruel world full of hatred and killing and torture- there was no love. Not the tiniest speck of it. That is why I have the job I have.  
  
That's why I'm here, handcuffed in some random warehouse, looking up at the most gorgeous man I have ever laid eyes on, who has a gun pointed at my head. 


	2. Our Meeting

Chapter 1: Our Meeting  
  
"Where the hell is it?"  
  
Where the hell is what? I've forgotten what the hell I'm supposed to be getting. His green eyes are so mesmerizing. Where did I know him from?  
  
Mid-thirties. Somewhat spiked light brown hair. French.  
  
I'm too exhausted to say anything but a simple, but explanatory, "I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
Oh God. He has a dimple. Wow. Who is he?  
  
"You've just stolen the disk on Weaver, and I am in particular need of it at the moment."  
  
Weaver disk? Who the hell was Weaver? Oh. Damnit. Stupid ass job. I'd much rather be focusing on those sexy forehead wrinkles.  
  
"Oh, that. Well, you must have knocked me out before I could've gotten it then, huh? Cuz, I don't exactly have it."  
  
My head was throbbing. I didn't need this right now.  
  
"Jesus, what agency are you?" I moaned at him. Probably some K-Directorate ass hole trying to steal from the CIA. A hot ass hole who I know from somewhere, but nevertheless, an ass hole.  
  
"Who wants to know?" he grunts. "Now where's the disk?!"  
  
"Dude, dude. Don't get so bent out of shape. Why do you think I know where the disk is?" I noticed his tux for the first time. He must've been at the same party. He looked reeeaally good in that tux, no matter who he worked for.  
  
"I caught you in Warner's office looking for it, how else?" He growled. Finally, I notice how tired his eyes looked. Every wrinkle on his forehead had a story- some agonizing tale that breaks his heart to even tell. I could see that he'd been through a lot- maybe more than me. His heart had been ripped to shreds. Well, we definitely have something in common.  
  
"And why do you think I have it?"  
  
"Because after I knocked you out it wasn't there!"  
  
Oh, well. That explains a lot. But I definitely didn't have it.  
  
At least his gun was no longer pointed at me. But his brow was still furrowed. His stance still firm. His eyes still tired.  
  
My mind flittered back to my apartment. Back to a picture of my dad with several of his colleagues in a bar.  
  
And that's when I placed him.  
  
Shit. Shit shit shit.  
  
"Oh my god." My mouth fell open. "You're Michael Vaughn."  
  
"What?" His mouth joined the trend and flew open too. He looked positively horrified. The tough guy exterior had melted, and he looked more tired than ever.  
  
"Your father was William Vaughn- a friend of my father's. They were both killed by a woman named Irina Derevko."  
  
He winced at the name.  
  
"What?" He said again. Wow, a man of few words.  
  
"Well, put the gun on the floor and I'll tell you who I am. I'm not armed I swear to God."  
  
He did as he was told. I stood up, dusted my gown off, as it had collected dust from the warehouse floor. I took off my blonde wig to expose my long, sleek black hair. I held out my hand, but he seemed reluctant to take it. I guess I would be too. He glared at me, his stunning, yet tired eyes burning into my gray ones. And finally, he took it.  
  
"CIA Secret Agent Alene Hardwick. My father was Lance Hardwick. So, am I right? You're Michael Vaughn?" We released hands.  
  
"Yeah, but how did you-"  
  
"You are identical to your father and he's in a picture with my dad framed in my house. Besides, we've met before."  
  
He didn't say anything, but stared intensely at the ground as if it were going to move. I considered running away. Don't get involved, I told myself. This guy would just be trouble. He has too many secrets, too many skeletons in his closet. But I felt a tug at my heart. He was intriguing. I wanted to know why he looked so broken, I wanted to know the stories behind the forehead wrinkles, I wanted to know why he found it so hard to trust. Good lord, it looked as though he found it hard to breathe. And I wanted to know why. But first I had to gain his trust.  
  
"Sit down," I told him. He sat down on a crate; I took the one opposite him and told him my triple agent story. 


	3. Breaking

A/N: Well, I am honored if you have kept reading this far, to say the least. Now, that it is late, after watching Silence of the Lambs for the first time with my boyfriend who I have not seen in a week, I am ready to write another chapter.here goes. Hopefully Anthony Hopkins won't haunt me too badly.  
  
Chapter 2: Breaking  
  
"And here I am, talking with you on this fine evening, in a warehouse. I'm presuming I'm still in Italy."  
  
Michael simply nodded. He just sat there for a couple of minutes, avoiding eye contact with me. Jesus boy, I'm not some sort of freak. I won't burn you with my eyes.  
  
Finally, he spoke:  
  
"And I thought my life was interesting." I nodded back. The silence was hurting my ears, torturing me. I didn't know what to say, didn't know how to prompt him. I guess we didn't really need to talk. But he did anyway.  
  
"When my father died, it felt as though my whole world completely collapsed around me. If I had lost my mother as well, I- I don't know. I can't imagine what would've happened." He paused for a minute. I didn't say anything, I was too afraid to interrupt anything that may come to his lips.  
  
"So, in other words, I'm sorry. I know you probably don't want pity. You don't strike me as the type that would. But," he stopped again. "I- I am truly sorry that you live my worst nightmare."  
  
I spoke up this time, "what's that?"  
  
"To feel unloved and incapable of loving- something I feel that I've been through for the past year and a half. I know it's not true. There are still people who love me. But I don't feel it anymore. I feel so cold inside. I can't explain it. Jesus, why the hell am I telling you this? You're a complete stranger. I met you, what? An hour ago?"  
  
"Sometimes strangers make the best listeners," I offered.  
  
He gave a short, sad laugh. "Yeah, I guess they do." For the first time all hour, he stared straight at me. His fiery eyes were like lasers. I had to look away. It made me feel something in the pit of my stomach that I recognized, but knew I never wanted.  
  
"Why did you look away? You've been trying to get me to look into your eyes all evening, and right when I do, you look away. Why is that? Are you afraid?" Why could he read me? Hell yes I was afraid. I was afraid of him. Afraid of life, tomorrow, love. I was scared to death of what was going to become of me and my pointless life. Was it even worth it anymore?  
  
"No, I'm not afraid," I lied. "And aren't we supposed to be talking about you here, Michael? You already know about my horrible life."  
  
"You know, I think your life is less horrible than you make it." That pissed me off.  
  
"Oh yeah? How? If you're such a fucking genius, then tell me. How is it so wonderful?" Damnit, my voice cracked. I realized that tears were streaming down my cheeks. I was sobbing. I hadn't cried in years.  
  
I slapped my hands over my eyes and let it go. I was hysterical! All the anger and the hatred inside of me felt like it was squeezing out of me with each tear. And I couldn't stop it.  
  
I felt an arm go around my waist and another creep around my shaking shoulder. I moved toward Michael's warm body as he held me as I broke down.  
  
We must have sat there for an hour.  
  
Finally, when no more tears would come, I pulled away from him and looked up into his eyes again. He stroked my face as if he'd known me for years, leaned over, and gave me a tiny peck on the cheek.  
  
And my insides exploded again. But this time, it felt good. I felt a warmth sweep over me like a nice warm blanket. I could have curled up there and fallen asleep. It was comforting to sit there, looking into those green eyes and-  
  
I felt loved. For the first time since my father died, I actually felt loved. It wasn't a romantic love that was radiating from those beautiful eyes, but it was genuine, pure, honest to goodness love. It had to be. I know, I've said it a thousand times: I don't believe in love. But I was experiencing it first-hand. There was no mistaking it. He loved me.  
  
And I knew that I loved him.  
  
A/N: Does that work? Just keep in mine that I'm a die-hard S/V fan, and I wouldn't betray that. Yeah, I know my chapters tend to be short. But, word wise.this was the longest. Please forgive the shortness of the chapters!! 


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